Two unappreciative teens, a verbally abusive husband, and an aggressive and interfering ex-wife is a "normal" part of her life. One Saturday morning when Liz's husband barks at her to, "Git your ass to the store and git my beer, woman," she literally runs into someone who gives her unexpected but much needed advice.
Liz decides it's time to get a life of her own. Traveling from Pennsylvania, to Michigan, to Washington State, she learns about friendship, happiness and love. Moreover Liz discovers who she really is.
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~Excerpt~
Lost in thought, I almost missed the turn into Wal-Mart and had to slam on my breaks to catch the driveway in time. I turned the wheel sharply to pull into the parking lot and the next thing I knew, a horn was blaring and my head snapped forward as my car plowed into the back of another vehicle.
Great! Can this day get any worse? I thought. And then, Oh shit, Brian�s going to hit the roof. Before I knew it, tears were welling in my eyes and pouring down my cheeks.
I shakily pulled to the side of the parking lot and the silver SUV that I’d hit followed me. I wiped my face with a napkin and tried to pull myself together. Sniffling miserably, I got out of the car and faced the driver of the other vehicle.
She was a petite Asian woman, maybe in her fifties. When she stepped from her car she was frowning, but when she saw my panicky tears, her face softened. Clattering quickly toward me on her spiky little red heels, she held out her hand. "Honey," she said in a lightly accented voice. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you just shook up?"
"I'm so sorry," I begin to cry again. "I wasn't paying attention, I didn't mean to do that. I’m so stupid! My husband is going to have a fit and I don’t know if I remembered to pay the last insurance premium because the girls needed new clothes."
She placed her hand on my arm comfortingly and made little shushing sounds, cutting off my blathering. "Look," she said, drawing me over to where her SUV was parked. "It’s not bad. There’s just a little paint here from the back of your car. And yours," she gestured to the bumper of my Civic. The plastic was chipped and cracked in places, but still hanging on bravely.
"Not too bad either. Just a little crumple, that’s all. Gives that bumper a little character. We won’t even call the police. As a matter of fact, Ill cover your little paint spot on my car with some nail polish. I’ve got just the color! No insurance company for that either." She smiled at me encouragingly, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners, and to my horror, I began to really sob. My shoulders were quivering and I could hardly breath as I cried.
She immediately wrapped her arms around me and it was like being comforted by a child, since she had to be less than 5 tall. I was shaking hard from the force of my tears, and the woman pulled out a silky handkerchief that smelled of a light and sweet, but expensive perfume, and began dabbing at my face with it.
I was so embarrassed, but I couldn’t seem to stop. After fifteen minutes of the tiny woman patting my back, as I cried my heart out at the deserted end of the Wal-Mart parking lot, my tears finally slowed, and then gave way to hiccups. She smiled again, stepped back, and stuck out her hand.
"I'm Ann," she said. "It's a rule that women who cry all over each other must be friends."
I gave a quick laugh and shook her hand. "I’m so sorry for that..."
Ann cut off my apology with a quick wave of her manicured hand. "What’s your name?" she asked.
"Liz."
"Well, Liz, I think we should get a cup of coffee and you can tell me what’s wrong. Well take my car and go to Starbucks, my treat, and I’ll bring you back in a little while."
"Oh, I couldn’t," I protested instantly. "My husband sent me out for beer" I let my sentence trail off, thinking about how terrible that sounded, but Ann just shook her head hard, making her pageboy haircut swing.
"Nope," she said. "Another rule. Women who go through car accidents and crying spells need mochas with whipped cream. Come on," she said, pulling me toward what I saw was an expensive Lexus. "Get in."
I had never been one to make friends quickly, but it seemed as if that was just what I’d done. Shaking my head at this weird twist of fate, I climbed in, trying not to think about Brian, with his face growing purple and that vein that always popped out on the side of his head when he was angry.
Ann chattered non-stop as she drove the mile or so to the coffee shop, not leaving me with a single second to feel uncomfortable about completely humiliating myself in front of a total stranger and then letting that stranger talk me into buying me a coffee. During that short time, I learned that she had come to the United States in her teens with her family, immigrating from a small village in China, before graduating from Harvard on a scholarship in her mid-twenties and joining a successful law practice as a junior partner before she even hit thirty.
Once we reached Starbucks, Ann pulled me along in her wake like a mini hurricane, ordering me a giant, fragrant mocha and, despite my weak arguments, a bowl of mushroom rice soup and a big piece of crusty French bread.
We settled into a booth. She sipped her coffee and sighed in satisfaction. "That Good. Now, tell me about yourself."
Amazingly, I found myself opening up to her. I told her about my life. Losing my mom so young and then, just a few months ago, losing my dad. I cried a little when I told her about my big brother and sister, William and Linda, and how I hadn’t seen them often in the past few years. I saw William briefly at Pops funeral. But I saw Linda a little more frequently since we both lived in Pittsburg, but that I didn’t see her as often as I’d like to. I told her about life with Brian and the girls, how it was getting harder every day, and how guilty I felt for being unhappy. I told her about Stephanie, and how I thought she was the one responsible for Sam and Shannon’s increasingly disrespectful attitudes. I even told her things I hadn’t told anyone’ like how Id always wanted a child of my own, even though I loved my stepdaughters. And the big secret Id been carrying for the last few months: that I hadn’t actually spent my entire inheritance on Pops funeral like Brian had thought. That I was terrified he would find out.
The whole time, Ann gave me her full attention, patting my hand sometimes when I teared up, and smiling at the good parts, with her dark eyes twinkling and the little crows feet crinkling at the corners.
When I finally calm down, I looked down in surprise to see that Id completely finished all of my soup and bread practically without tasting it, and there were just a few cold swallows of coffee left in the bottom of my cup.
"I'm so sorry," I said immediately, starting to get up. "I've talked your ear off and you don't even know me. I can only imagine what you must think."
"Sit down, Liz," Ann ordered firmly. "I had nothing to do this afternoon that was more important than this last two hours has been." Two Hours! I let out a little gasp.
"You needed someone, I was there. When I need someone in the future, maybe you’ll be there."
"Definitely," I nodded, thankful to have unloaded everything Id told her. "Whenever you need me." As I dug in my purse for a pen to write my phone number, my cell display was blinking madly.
Brian had called eight times, Sam four, and Shannon twice. Even the she-devil called once. I checked the time. "Oh no," I burst out. I stood gathering my things, but Ann gestured for me to sit, and I automatically plopped back down in the booth. "But my husband."
Ann interrupted. "Liz, you’ve shared a lot with me. I know I'm a lawyer, and not a shrink, but can I give you some advice?"
"Of course, anything," I said.
"Leave."
I stared at her blankly. "I know, I have to stop and pick up the beer" I began.
"No, I mean you need to leave that life. I'll take you back to your car and you just hop in and keep on driving."
"I can't do that," I whispered, immediately nervous, because we were about to talk about something that had been in the back of my mind for the last few months, something that I'd talked to my sister and brother about at Pops funeral. Something that I'd never mentioned to anyone else. The overwhelming urge to get into my car and disappear into the sunset.
"But my family," I sputtered. "I couldn’t do that to them. They need me."
Ann’s voice was firm, but sympathetic. "Liz, your 34-years-old. You've been taking care of them since you were barely old enough to take care of yourself. Think about the stories you've just told me. Your family has done nothing but take advantage of you. I'm not saying that you should never come back, but I am a big believer in fate and taking chances when someone offers them. Go, and if you don't stay gone, at least learn what it’s like to only take care of yourself for a while."
Suddenly, I was a little angry.
"You don’t know my family," I spat. "You don't know them. I haven't been forced to stay all these years. They need me and I stay because I love them."
Ann ignored my irritation, and calmly said, "Liz, when was the last time your husband or your children said I love you, or thank you?'" She looked at me with questioning eyes. "When was the last time Brian told you that you were beautiful?"
I immediately dropped my eyes, and she gently lifted up my head with the tips of her fingers. "When was the last time he said that he was grateful for everything you do for him? Or just said please?"
I just looked at her as tears burned the back of my eyes. I couldn’t remember. I know that they do, even if they don’t say it, I tried to convince myself.
Ann continued relentlessly but her tone grew softer. "If Brian and the girls don�t say those things, what do they say? Do they insult you? Yell at you? Look at how you reacted when you got into a little accident. You cried in fear of what your husband would say." It was a statement, not a question. Even after just meeting me, Ann knew that those tears weren’t just caused by our little fender-bender. I'd cried like a woman unhinged.
I sat silent, though. I didn’t want to answer her, because deep down, I knew she was right. And to admit it, I would be betraying Brian and the girls. I didn't want to admit it, but I’d been feeling like Id made a mistake marrying Brian. It was as if Pop's dying had jolted me from a long and terrible dream.
The countless insults and raging fits that Brian threw over the smallest matters had been coming more and more frequently in the last several months. He seemed to get angrier and angrier every time. He attacked me verbally for every little thing, and it was hard not to believe some of the things he said. Maybe I was ugly. Maybe I was fat or stupid. Maybe that meatloaf did taste like crap. He was also getting more and more frightening each time, seeming to fly into a rage over the slightest things. Over the last month I’ve had this overwhelming felling, I don�t know what it was but had to admit to myself that I was sure he was going to start hitting me soon.
Then the girls. When they insulted me, made jokes about my hair, which hadn’t seen a beauty salon since the Clinton Administration, or laughed at my clothes, which were mostly old and worn, Brian just laughed and egged them on. Countless scenarios ran through my head of all the times, just in the past couple of weeks, that Id been treated badly by my own family.
Ann gently touched my hand, bringing me back to the table at Starbucks. Before I could second-guess myself, I blurted out one word. "Okay."
"You sure?" she asked, face creasing in concern. "I'm nosy. I shouldn’t give advice like that when we’ve only known each other a few hours."
Now that I'd said it out loud, a little tingly feeling raced up my spine and it took a second to recognize what it was. Excitement. Oh, I had a whole lot of guilt to contend with for even considering leaving, but mostly I felt excitement.
"No." I said. "You’re right. Listen to this." I pulled ripped my cell phone from my purse. Two new messages in the span of five minutes. Turning the volume down so only Ann could hear, I played the messages on speakerphone.
The first message was Brian. "Don't forget to get more Doritos. Your dumb ass didn't grab any at the store last time. And hurry the hell up." Click.
Ann shook her head in disbelief, her face drawn up in a scowl.
Next was Sam, attitude just oozing through the phone. "Yeah, Liz. Pick me up at the mall at four."
The messages went on and on, Brian’s growing steadily more pissed off. Finally, I snapped the phone shut. Feeling better than I had in months, I looked at Ann and smiled. "Thank you so much for the soup and coffee, and definitely for your advice." I slid my number across the table.
"Please call me if I can return the favor. Can you take me back to my car now? I think I feel a road trip coming on."
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